Every day my feet rush me to work, sidewalk cracks passing like seams on an escalator, brushing shoulders with familiar yet unknown people, out of breath, focused on getting somewhere else. Nods instead of smiles, grunts instead of hellos, we have places to be after all. The world waits on us and expects us to hurry and deliver.
And each day my pace slows slightly as I pass the candy store...admiring the display that the much slower man behind the glass always builds. A tower, a pyramid of treats. Colors and shapes of all sorts. I imagine the scents must move like a sweet spring breeze over the morning’s dew. And I always spot one treat I want as my pace picks up and I round the corner. Maybe tomorrow. Next week? Okay..Saturday? I’ve said it for years. Later. But a Saturday does arrive...and I'm late. So I look at my choice and resolve to come back the next day. CLOSED/Out of Business!
Now I wish I had stopped, touched that treat...tasted it...appreciated it and mostly remembered the sweetness of it.
And I wish I'd held my daughters hand more often.
And I wish I'd taken my son fishing when he had asked with his big beautiful eyes wide open.
And I wish I'd taken my father to breakfast once in awhile, and maybe hinted that I really did love him.
And I wish I'd taken my Mother on a magical vacation, even though she only asked for an occasional call.
But hey, I had places to be and other things to do as the world rushed by.
And now, we are closed and out of business. My daughter has left. My son wants a new video game. My father is dead and Mom finds a vacation in a glass of brandy.
The loved ones in our lives are gifts. Treats if you will. Remember to admire their wrappings. Take the time to remember their scent. Do not hesitate or delay only to find the shop is closed and out of business.Gunner ©